Almost Gone
by soccerglory
Summary: MY version of what happened in "The Measure of Men".


Title: Almost Gone (working title)   
Author: soccerglory (jfrules11@hotmail.com   
Rating: PG (I think)   
Classification: Harm/Mac shipper (Mac's POV...sorta)   
Spoilers: Major spoilers for "The Measure of Men".   
Summery: MY version of what happened in TMOM.   
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the charecter or some of the dialogue, which you'll notice where it is.   
  
a/n: This isn't one of my best, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I'm so sappy. :D   
  
As I enter the room to call the two of them to the table for dinner, I stop a moment and ponder the scene that lay out before me. My two boys are playing with each other. Both are holding World War II toy planes, zipping them around in the air. They both rattle off shots, simulating the sound with their tongue and teeth.   
"Ha-*ha*!. I got you!" says the elder.   
"Nuh-uh! I got you first, Dad!" says my little boy, David.   
"Oh, no you didn't. I shot you first then barrel rolled to get you off my six!" Daddy replies, playfully.   
"Well. . .you missed me," the six year old says, trying to prove his case. I have to grin. He's so much like his daddy.   
"Oh yeah? Well how's this for missing you?" my aviator asks, before his six-foot-four frame is on top of our son's three-foot one, wrestling him to the ground. I smile and lean my head against the doorway. I always knew Harm would be a great father. To think we almost lost each other. Or, rather, never found each other in the first place. . .   
  
Things had gotten worse with Mic. Worse to the point of "indefinite postponement" of the wedding. Mic was the one who called it off. Despite the fact that I didn't love him, it still hurt. I couldn't talk to Harm. Renee's father had just died and he was leaving for Minesota. So I did the only thing I could think of. I went away; far away; Indian Ocean far away.   
Being himself, Harm followed me after the funeral. Despite how much I wanted to see him, which was desperately, I desperately didn't want to see him. But of course, he was a bull-headed, idiot and he came. He was defending the Marine I was prosecuting. That man is by far the most aggravating of his kind, but God help me, I love him to death.   
Then he came to my cabin,   
"May I come in?" he asked, knocking on the door.   
"Sure," I said.   
"You know why I requested this assignment?" he asked, leaning against the rack and looking everywhere but directly at me.   
"No," I reply, knowing full well why he was here, just not wanting to acknowledge it.   
"Because I needed to talk to you and I knew you weren't going to call me back. I don't get it Mac. When Brumby left you asked for my help," he said, genuinely confused.   
"I'm handling it," I responded, wanting do drop the subject.   
"Halfway around the world."   
"It seemed like the right thing to do," I replied.   
"You're running Mac. What's going on?" he asked. He knew me far too well. I didn't want him to know me that well, it made it too hard - too hard not to love him.   
"Nothing." Why wouldn't he just drop it?   
"Then let me in - tell me what you're feeling," he said. God, he really wanted to talk about this.   
"Pressured. Why are you doing this?" I asked, suddenly nervous.   
"Because I told you I would," he said. Oh, that made sense.   
"Wait a minute. You're talking to me now because you're guilty about not doing it then?"   
"You're angry at me? Renee's father died!" he defended himself. I was mad at him. He could have at least taken a quick minute to talk to me, comfort me, support me.   
"If he hadn't?" I pressed.   
"We would have talked," he said. , I thought.   
"About what?" I pressed further.   
"About us," he said, his face unbelieving. There he went assuming again. Why did he do that.   
"That's why I left - there is no us. There's you and Renee." I paused, not sure it I was ready to say it yet, but I had to. "What would you give up to have me? Mic gave up the Navy and his country. Would you sacrifice your girlfriend?" He was stuck now, I was sure. He had to answer.   
"What you're testing me?"   
"Well would you?" I asked, standing my ground. I needed an answer. My heart was aching.   
"What if I did?" He was avoiding me, damn it.   
"Answer the question." Now I felt bad for pressing it. His eyes - God those eyes. They told me he was scared.   
"As long as you answer mine." That was it. I wasn't taking this anymore,   
"I am so sick of this dance," I said before turning to walk out of the room. He caught my arm before I could leave. With more boldness than I though he had in him, he said,   
"You know what. . .so am I." He shut the door and pulled me close to him. I could feel his heart beating just as fast as mine. God I wanted him. "For you, I would give her up. I'd give her up in a second." I moved my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Then his lips covered mine in a kiss that I would never forget. It was better than I remembered; more needy. He pried my mouth open with his lips, then entered with his tongue. I wanted him; I wanted him so badly. I put more into it, clutching the front of his summer whites in my fingers. I needed more. But we couldn't. Not where we were. Some other time.   
I ripped myself away,   
"Harm," I breathed, "that was. . ." I rested my head against his chest, taking in his scent. "God, Harm. . .I - I'm not sure how to react."   
"Neither am I," he said, with light laughter in his voice. I stepped back a little, but I couldn't make myself move my hands.   
"Harm, I think we should wait. . .to go any further until you break it off with Renee," I knew what he was thinking. I saw it in his eyes. He was so eager, it almost made me laugh. "Harm," I said in a motherly tone, with a little smirk, "don't do it over the phone."   
"I wasn't going to," he said, innocently.   
"Don't lie to me," I said, finally removing my hands from his body, but not before dragging them down his chest to his abs. "You gained some weight, Stickboy," I said with a grin before leaving the cabin.   
  
Six months later, we got married. Ten months after that, we had our first child, David Harmon Rabb. Harm didn't want David to have the same first name as he did. He told me it was because he knew one Harmon Rabb was more than enough for me to handle. Though for some reason, I have my doubts that my little David won't turn out to be just like his daddy.   
Now, six years later, I'm still as much in love with my Sailor as I was the first day we met, in the Rose Garden; maybe even more so. Harm notices me in the doorway and smiles that smile that has always and will always make me go weak in the knees.   
"It's time for dinner," I say.   
"Alright!" David yells, before jumping up and blowing by me into the kitchen.   
"Well," Harm says, circling his arms around my waist, "I guess he had to inherit something from you." I just laugh,   
"At least he inherited *my* appetite and not *yours*, Stickboy."   
"You wanna see what this 'stickboy' can do?" he said, huskily.   
"Not now, Harm," I say, smiling and placing my hands on his chest. "Right now, you're Marine and her son are very hungry," I say before kissing him lightly.   
"I love you. You know that, right?" he asks.   
"Of course I know," I say, "I love you, too."   
"Once I satisfy my Marine's stomach, I'll satisfy her hormones."   
"Is that a promise?"   
"You bet it is. And I never go back on a promise," he says, before giving me a soft kiss.   
  
THE END


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